Job 10
1 My soul doth loathe my life, —I let loose my complaint, I speak, in the bitterness of my soul.
Hejeko ty haveloko; hampidadaeko ty fitoreoko hivolañe ami’ty hafairan-troko.
2 I say unto GOD, Do not hold me guilty, Let me know, on what account thou contendest with me!
Hoe ty ataoko aman’Añahare, Ko ozoñe’o; ampahafohino ahiko ty lie’o amako.
3 Is it seemly in thee, that thou shouldst oppress? that thou shouldst despise the labour of thine own hand, when, upon the counsel of the lawless, thou hast shone?
Mahasoa azo hao te ihe mamorekeke, te mavoe’o ty satam-pità’o vaho ampiloeloea’o ty fikinià’ o lo-tserekeo?
4 Eyes of flesh, hast thou? or, as a mortal seeth, seest thou?
Amam-pihaino nofotse v’iheo? Mahavazoho manahake ty fañentea’ ondatio hao?
5 As the days of a mortal, are thy days? or, thy years, as the days of a man?
Hambañe ami’ty andro’ o olombeloñeo hao o andro’oo, mira ami’ty tao’ ondatio hao o tao’oo,
6 That thou shouldst seek for mine iniquity, and, for my sin, shouldst make search:
t’ie tsoehe’o o tahikoo, vaho kodebe’o o hakeokoo,
7 Though it is, within thine own knowledge, that I would not be lawless, and, none, out of thy hand, can deliver?
ndra t’ie arofoana’o te tsy tsereheñe, tsy eo ty haharombake am-pità’o.
8 Thine own hands, shaped me, and made me, all in unison round about, and yet thou hast confounded me.
Nitsenèm-pità’o iraho, nifonire’o ho raike; aa vaho ho rotsahe’o?
9 Remember, I pray thee, that, as clay, thou didst make me, and, unto dust, thou wilt cause me to return.
Tiahio te lietse ty nitsenea’o ahy; hampoli’o ho deboke hao?
10 Didst thou not, like milk, pour me forth? and, as cheese, curdle me?
Tsy nadoa’o hoe ronono hao raho vaho nampamoae’o hoe habobo?
11 With skin and flesh, clothe me? and, with bones and sinews, interweave me?
Nanikina’o holitse naho nofotse, namahera’o an-taolañe naho talin’ozatse.
12 Life and lovingkindness, thou didst bestow upon me, —and, thy watchful care, preserved my breath.
Tinolo’o havelo an-koko migahiñe, vaho nampitambeloñe ty troko ty fiatraha’o.
13 Yet, these things, thou didst hide in thy heart, I know that, this, hath been with thee!
Fe naeta’o añ’arofo’o ao o raha zao; apotako t’ie ama’o:
14 If I have sinned, then couldst thou watch me, and, from mine iniquity, thou wouldst not acquit me:
Ie mandilatse iraho, tendre’o, vaho tsy apo’o i hakeokoy.
15 If I have been lawless, alas for me! Or, if I am righteous, I will not lift up my head, Surfeited with shame, look thou then on my humiliation.
Ie manao hakeo: hankàñe amako! Ie mahity, tsy vaniko ty miandra, amy te lifo-kasalarañe, tsapako o hasotriakoo.
16 When it is lifted up, like a howling lion, thou dost hunt me, Then again thou dost shew thyself marvellous against me.
Aa naho niandrandra: Le hoe liona ty hangoroña’o ahy; vaho havale’o ahy an-kalatsàñe.
17 Thou renewest thy witnesses before me, and dost increase thy vexation with me, Relays—yea an army, is with me.
Vaoe’o amako o mpanisý ahikoo, vaho indrae’o amako ty haviñera’o; hasosorañe mitovon-kaemberañe ty amako.
18 Wherefore then, from the womb, didst thou bring me forth? I might have breathed my last, and, no eye, have seen me.
Ino ty nañakara’o ahy an-koviñe ao? Nainako te ho nisimba tsy ho niisam-pihaino,
19 As though I had not been, should I have become, —from the womb to the grave, might I have been borne.
Hàmake t’ie hoe tsy nitoly, fa boak’an-koviñe mb’an-kibory
20 Are not my days, few?—then forbear, and set me aside, that I may brighten up for a little;
Tsy ho napo’e hao o androko tsy ampeampeo? Misitaha hey irehe, hahatreavako fañanintsin-kedeke,
21 Before I go, and not return, unto a land of darkness and death-shade:
aolo’ te hiampaneñako; mb’amy tsy hahafibaliham-beoy, mb’an-tane mimoromoroñe, mb’an-talinjon-kavilasy ao;
22 A land of obscurity, like thick darkness, of death-shade and disorder, and which shineth like thick darkness.
Tane migobogoboñ’ ieñe, toe fimoromoroñañe, an-tane an-kalon-kavilasy, tsy mipendreñe, miloeloe hoe ieñe.
